


Got Your Back

by Rosalind_or_Ganymede



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Mostly fluff though, Shitty and Jack are best friends, Some Mild Angst, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, mild panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 15:02:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18013118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosalind_or_Ganymede/pseuds/Rosalind_or_Ganymede
Summary: Jack had never gotten soulmarks easily, and the ones he had tended to fade fast. That’s just the way it was. Going to Samwell wasn’t going to change that.Everyone gets soulmarks, for their family, their friends, their partners, but Jack has never gotten them easily. He's almost given himself up as a lost cause, when a ridiculous man with an even more ridiculous mustache hurtles into his life.A best friend soulmate au.





	Got Your Back

Jack had never gotten soulmarks easily, and the ones he had tended to fade fast. That’s just the way it was. His parents told him that it took two months after he was born for their soulmarks to appear on him. They smiled as they said it, his dad joking that they had to work hard to “win him over”, but it always worried Jack. 

 

He remembered asking his parents about it when he was younger. They were both covered in soulmarks, and they could point to each one and name the friend or family member the mark corresponded to. They told him that sometimes one person got a mark and the other didn’t, explained the way that romantic marks were warm to the touch, and even showed him his own mark. He traced the swirling silver and blue pattern on his mother’s shoulder and his father’s forearm.

 

Since he was a child, Jack had seen his mark appear on others a number of times, but his own skin had stayed almost entirely blank. There was his family and some of their friends, but no one else. It took almost a year of knowing Kent before his mark had shown up. It had always been difficult. Jack wouldn’t get a mark, someone else  would, and eventually they would drift apart. After the overdose, even the few he had began to fade. Jack had a panic attack the morning that he looked in the mirror and saw that the jagged orange star above his heart had disappeared completely. His parents had found him curled up in his closet, barely able to breathe. 

 

Jack had never gotten soulmarks easily, and the ones he had tended to fade fast. That’s just the way it was. Going to Samwell wasn’t going to change that. 

 

\--- 

 

At his first meeting with the hockey team, Jack got there early and sat down in an empty seat as far as possible from everyone else. Nobody sat next to him. He wondered if they had heard the rumors about his overdose. The other guys filtered into the room slowly. Jack heard a laugh from the hall and looked up sharply. A man with long wild hair and a ridiculous mustache had just walked in. His arm was slung around another guy, like he had known him forever, although Jack was fairly certain the guy had been in his freshman orientation. Mustache Guy looked around the room, eyes settling on Jack. He leaned over to say something to his friend and Jack sunk back in his seat. Whatever he was saying couldn’t be good. He was so deep into wondering what it was that he didn’t notice the man with the mustache come over and plop down in the chair next to him, until he felt a knee bump up against his. Jack glanced over at him. The guy was sitting there with his legs spread like he owned the place. 

“Hey,” he said “Nice to meet you!” Jack tried to process what was happening. This stranger just sat down next to him and started talking like it was the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t until he extended his hand to shake that Jack realized he had missed his name. He tuned back in just in time to hear: “But I kind of hate that name. Everyone just calls me Shitty.” 

 

“Shitty?”    
  
“Yeah. It’s fucking perfect. What’s your name?” 

 

Jack remembered his manners and took Shitty’s hand. “Jack,” he said. Then, as an afterthought “Zimmerman.” Jack thought he saw recognition pass across Shitty’s face, but he didn’t say anything. Just grinned and kept pumping his hand up and down. 

 

“Great to meet you, Jack. Do you have a nickname?” 

 

“Jack,” Jack said, then winced. Shitty threw back his head and guffawed.

 

“Okay, bro. I’ll figure something out. Lots of the guys don’t have nicknames yet. This is your first year here, right? I saw you at some of the orientation things. How do you like it so far?”    
  


“It’s…” Jack trailed off. His heart was beating faster. This was already the longest conversation he’d had since starting at Samwell. Shitty seemed to sense something was wrong. He placed a hand on Jack’s arm and started talking.    
  


“Well, I love it. My parents are pissed as fuck that I decided to come here, but fuck ‘em, right? This is my fucking life. Wait until they hear what I’m going to major in. I’m excited to get started with the team, aren’t you? They seem like a great group of guys. I can already tell this season is going to be awesome.” 

Shitty kept talking. Jack tuned in and out, mainly focusing on Shitty’s hand, which was still sitting on his shoulder. Typically, Jack wasn’t a fan of physical contact, but this was nice. Grounding. He nodded along with what Shitty was saying, and found himself smiling a few times when Shitty started a rant on discrimination in hockey, waving his free hand wildly and swearing every other word. When the meeting started, Shitty quieted down and took his hand off Jack’s shoulder. Jack was surprised to find he missed it. Shitty gave away affection so easily. Jack watched him lean over and bump shoulders with the guy on his other side, high five someone else when the meeting broke up. It was impressive to Jack, how at ease he was with everyone. Jack got up from his seat and stretched. Shitty turned his way with a big grin on his face. 

  
“You coming?”    
  
Jack blinked. “What?” he asked. Shitty came over and threw an arm around Jack’s shoulders. 

  
“We’re grabbing lunch,” he said, “you wanna come?” 

 

“Is that okay?” 

 

“Dude,” Shitty spun around so he was face to face with Jack “Of course it is. You’re part of the team. We all want you here.”    
  
“Oh.” Jack didn’t really know what to say to that. “Okay.” 

 

Shitty put an arm back around his shoulder and guided him towards the group walking to the cafeteria. “You’re gonna fit in just fine. It might help if you looked a bit more approachable, though. That scowl you had at the start of the meeting even scared me a little bit.”    
  
“I was scowling?”    
  


Shitty barked out a laugh, then looked at Jack out of the corner of his eye. “Seriously?” he asked “You were looking at us like we kicked your dog.”    
  


“I don’t have a dog,” Jack said, then caught up to the conversation and winced. Shitty just laughed and shook his head.   
  


“Jack fucking Zimmerman, I think I’m in love with you.”

 

After that, Shitty became a fixture in Jack’s life. They ate meals together, hung out after practices, Jack had even started to expect to find Shitty in his room when he got back. (He wasn’t sure how Shitty kept getting in without a key). It was nice. Jack felt more at ease with Shitty than he did with anyone else at Samwell, maybe more than anyone on his old teams, either. The first month of school passed quickly. Jack didn’t fit in perfectly with the team, but with Shitty with him, it didn’t matter too much. They spent a lot of their time off the ice together. It was nice. When his parents asked about school, Jack always inevitably started talking about Shitty’s antics. He could hear the relief in their voices whenever they called and Shitty was there. Jack felt relieved, too. After everything that had happened, he hadn’t been sure he would be able to get close to people again. He thought perhaps he was broken. But Shitty had decided to be his friend, and Jack was happy to go along with it. 

 

Early in February, Jack was woken up by someone banging on his door at three in the morning. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the door. Who was insane enough to be up at this time of night? 

 

“Shut up!” someone yelled. 

 

“I’M SORRY!” an unmistakable voice shouted back “THIS IS SUPER IMPORTANT!” Ah. Shitty. 

 

Jack got up quickly, tripping over a pile of dirty clothes and saying a silent thank you that his roommate was out of town this weekend. He made it to the door and pulled it open. 

 

“Shitty,” he hissed “what are you doing?” 

 

“Jack Fucking Zimmerman! You, magnificent butterfly!” Jack rolled his eyes and looked up and down the hall. A few people  had stuck their heads out of the door to see what was happening. Jack waved a quick apology and ushered Shitty inside. Once the door was closed, he turned around and frowned at Shitty. 

 

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, Shits, but-” Jack trailed off as Shitty started to pull off his pants. “Did you smoke too much again?” 

 

“Probably, but that’s not important right now. Brah, look.” Jack was a little hesitant to look at whatever Shitty had had to take off his pants to show him, but he reluctantly glanced at Shitty’s thigh. There, beneath some hair, was an unmistakable mark. Jack had seen it before, on his parents, on Kent. It was Jack’s solumark. 

 

“Dude.” Shitty said “Look at this shit!” Jack smiled weakly. 

 

“That’s great, Shitty,” he said, trying to mean it. Jack hated when this happened. People got his mark, he didn’t get theirs, and eventually they drifted apart. 

 

“Did you get one?” Shitty asked. 

 

“I don’t… I don’t know if I…” Jack felt the panic rising in his chest. “I mean, you’re my best friend, Shitty, but I…” He gestured to his almost completely bare skin, barely able to get the words out. 

 

“Hey, you okay?” 

 

“Yeah, I’m-” Jack tried to catch his breath. He sat down on his bed and shook his head. Shitty was beside him instantly.    
  
“Jack. It’s okay. Breathe with me, alright?” Jack took a few deep breaths, matching Shitty’s pace. His vision started to clear. 

 

“What’s wrong?” 

 

“I don’t get marks easily.” Jack said “I’m sorry.” 

 

“Dude, no need to apologize. That’s totally fine. I’m just happy your my friend. That’s enough for me. Who gives a shit about some mark, anyway?” 

 

“Lots of people.” Jack croaked. Shitty waved his hand dramatically. 

 

“Pssh, brah, it’s like so fucking ridiculous, right? I mean, what, some arbitrary hand of fate is supposed to decide who’s going to be important to you? What kind of fucked up system is that?” Jack let Shitty’s voice wash over him. Suddenly his limbs felt very heavy, and he was happy to lean against Shitty as he ranted against the universe. They were alright. Jack was alright. They sat for a while, until Jack had full control of his breathing again. Shitty looked over at him. 

 

“You okay?” 

 

“Yeah, I think so.” 

 

“You know I wasn’t just saying that shit, it’s true. Who gives a fuck about some stupid mark,” Shitty looked Jack square in the eyes and said “I don’t need a sign from the universe to tell me your my best friend.” Jack’s chest got tight again, but this time it felt good. The reason had changed. Jack smiled. 

 

“I know,” he said “Thanks, Shitty.” Jack stood up, gesturing weekly towards the bathroom. He was halfway to the door, when he stopped and turned around. “The, um,” he started awkwardly “you know that, well, the same goes for you, yeah?” 

 

“I know” Shitty said. They smiled at each other, then Jack gestured feebly towards the door again. 

 

“I really need to-” 

 

“Go, man!” 

 

“Okay.” Jack walked down the hall to the bathroom and sighed. Things really were going to be okay. While he was washing his hands, he studied himself in the mirror. There was something curling over his shoulder, just visible under his worn t-shirt. Jack froze. Slowly, he pulled back his collar. The thing was on his back, just barely peeking out onto his shoulder. Jack turned in a full circle trying to see what it was. Eventually, he gave up and ran back to his room. Shitty was lounging on his bed (pants still off, of course) looking at his phone, but he looked up as Jack stumbled into the room. Jack pulled his shirt off, and Shitty raised an eyebrow.

 

“Listen, Jack, I know I’m irresistible, but-” 

 

“Look.” Jack said, turning around “I can’t see it, but it is, right? It’s…” Shitty had gone slack jawed, staring at Jack’s back. Jack looked around expectantly “Shits?” He asked impatiently. Shitty raised his phone and snapped a picture, then waved it in Jack’s face. Somehow, Jack already knew what he was going to see. It was a bright pink flower, with petals that twisted in every direction.

 

“That’s me!” Shitty said “Jack, that’s me!” Jack whooped, forgetting momentarily that he had neighbors and it was 4AM. He grabbed Shitty in a bear hug, and Shitty laughed and mussed up his hair. When they had finished their celebration (and somebody in the hall had yelled “SHUT UP!”), Jack flopped back on his bed and grinned up at Shitty.

 

“This is amazing,” Shitty said “I mean don’t get me wrong, I still one thousand percent believe everything I said before, but  _ dude! _ ” 

 

“I know.” Jack said. Shitty looked like he was about to say something, then an idea dawned in his eyes. He smirked. 

 

“Guess you could say I’ve… got your back?” Shitty said. Jack processed for a moment, then groaned and threw a pillow at Shitty, who dodged and laughed maniacally. 

 

Over the next year, Jack’s skin still stayed mostly blank, but every once and awhile, a new mark would show up. It stopped being so unbelievable as time went on. Jack was still a certified “hockey robot”, but a few people made it into his inner circle, and once they got there, Jack cared for them fiercely. 

 

Jack had never gotten soulmarks easily, but the ones he got mattered. Going to Samwell taught him that. 

 


End file.
